


Caduceus

by otherhawk



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crowley is the archangel Raphael, Eternity, Gen, Healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 09:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19438375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otherhawk/pseuds/otherhawk
Summary: Every other new moon since a serpent first slithered through Eden the demon Crowley has walked into the deepest circle of hell through a largely unknown portal in the side of a mountain in what is now known as North Wales.Every other new moon since the serpent first slithered through Eden the Archangel Raphael has walked into their brother’s private chambers and stood before the Throne.As with all ancient traditions there are formalities to be observed.“Hello, Luci. How are you feeling today?”





	Caduceus

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure most people have seen the Raphael!Crowley headcanon that's been going around. TBH, it's definitely not a headcanon I'd be inclined to subscribe to - I think that a lot of the power in Good Omens is that the protagonists are all, in their own way, completely unremarkable. In particular Crowley and Aziraphale are just cogs in the machine but they still have the choice to try and make a difference. Having said that, I keep thinking about it, and getting ideas for how things could work IF.... so, yeah. Here we go. Hope you like.

Every other new moon since a serpent first slithered through Eden the demon Crowley has walked into the deepest circle of hell through a largely unknown portal in the side of a mountain in what is now known as North Wales.

Every other new moon since the serpent first slithered through Eden the Archangel Raphael has walked into their brother’s private chambers and stood before the Throne.

As with all ancient traditions there are formalities to be observed.

“Hello, Luci. How are you feeling today?”

Satan’s physical form within the bounds of hell is unfathomably vaster than Crowley. The Morningstar, burning even now, towers miles above him and does not deign to answer, simply shifting, the cracked fault lines in his blackened wings oozing lava.

Crowley makes a sympathetic face. “Oooh, that’s looking painful. Let’s see if there’s something we can do about that.” Six black wings unfurl and spread and he takes flight, hovering easily in front of the gargantuan unspeakable face. “May I?”

He waits for the great, glacially slow nod, before moving to the nearer wing and holding his hands out over eons-old injuries. The healing burns through him. It is an act of blasphemy. It is an act of love. He screams and his brother screams and hell trembles.

Time passes differently in hell when Satan wills it so. The day of the new moon can last for centuries untold.

When it is finally over the unholy wound is maybe just a little less deep. Maybe if you were to look very closely you might see the slightest sliver of shiny new scar tissue.

“There we go. Please try not to scratch it this time. I know it itches, I’m sorry.” Crowley settles on the mountain that is his brother’s shoulder, his feathers limp and drooping. “Letssss…Let’s just take a bit of a breather before I go on to the next one, ok? I don’t know about you, but I’m not as young as I used to be.” He pulls out a bottle of wine from deep in his coat. “Don’t worry, it’s not the one I brought last time. It’s that rosé you like…you really have no taste.” Even as he drinks the world shifts below him, and anger hangs in the air like sulphur. “Alright, alright, no need to throw a tantrum. Here.”

As the wine bottle is passed from one hand to another, perspective decides to run away and start a new life in a monastery somewhere. Crowley had gripped the bottle by the neck. Satan wraps his entire hand around its body and raises it to his mouth with a soft rumble.

“Oh, you’ll never believe what that bloody angel of mine has done now. I told you someone had gone and introduced him to cat videos, right?”

A burning-comet eye rolls sideways towards him.

“Yes, alright, _I_ introduced him to cat videos. But let's not dwell on the past, the point is he's gone and decided that snake videos should be the next big thing. He keeps trying to film me when I'm just innocently yawning or sunning myself or whatever. He says I'm adorable, it's humiliating!”

Another soft rumble.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Of course you'd take his side.” Now that he is sitting here, Crowley can see a large patch of scorched and raw skin covering the side of Satan's neck. He traces a hand above the edge of it slowly. “Would you like me to work on this next?”

You could spend every second from the Beginning to the End trying to heal the First of the Fallen and hardly manage to take the edge off his pain, even if you happened to be the sort of being who both had the will to try it and the imagination to consider it possible. Crowley happened to believe that just because a work was impossible to complete did not mean he shouldn't try.

As with all ancient traditions there are reasons behind the formalities. When Satan raises his mighty hand and – gently, oh so unbearably gently – pushes him aside, Crowley can feel that he is all but burnt out. He closes his eyes for a time. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess we're done for today. Sorry. I'd best get home anyway. The humans won't tempt themselves. Well, they will actually, that's one of the things I love about them. Take care of yourself, won't you? And I'll see you next time.”

He is too weary to fly and he doesn't struggle as an enormous hand closes around him and sets him down gently on the floor. He lets himself fall upwards, through hell and brimstone and fire and earth until he lies sprawled in a Welsh field, surrounded by sheep who have seen it all before.

Far beneath him the innermost circle of hell burns eternally.

"THANK YOU, BROTHER." **  
**

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, let me know - I might have more to write for it.


End file.
